


Customer Service

by faerietalks



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: DenNor, M/M, Nsfw content, sexshop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerietalks/pseuds/faerietalks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sindre works at a sexshop, and never thought of sleeping with a customer.<br/>However, he can make an exception for the stubborn and pushy Søren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first ever nsfw-fic that I wrote.  
> It was meant to be a cracky-pwp-oneshot, but I liked it too much so I kept writing.  
> It was a wip for more than a year, so my writing style changed during the course of writing this.  
> I hope you do enjoy this anyway!

“So how does it work?” Sindre was having none of this man’s bullshit. He didn’t have a problem with customers, normally, but the loud man with a thick, Danish accent had found a way to get on all of his nerves after barely 5 minutes in the small shop.

“It’s a vibrator, how do you think it works?” Sindre tried to look away from the man, who was waving the pink and glittery fake penis around and looking at it in what seemed like amazement.

“I don’t know, never had one,” the man leaned on the counter and flashed Sindre a big grin, still waving the vibrator around. Sindre couldn’t really tell if the man was trying to flirt with him or if he was just trying to make him snap. Either way, it was annoying, and it had to be stopped somehow.

“Mister, if you’re not going to buy that then stop fiddling around with it, and if you can’t behave like a decent human then I have to ask you to leave,”

“Ouch, geez, I was just flirting,” the man made a pouty-face that would have been believable if not the sarcasm behind it had shown through his eyes.

“Well, sadly, it isn’t working,” Sindre desperately looked around the small shop to see if there was anyone who needed help with anything or if there was something that needed to be restacked. The lube section was looking close to empty; he might as well put up some more, anything to get away from that man.

“If you run out without paying for that, I will hunt you down,” Sindre shot the man a glare and went into the storage room to get more bottles of lube out. Strawberry flavoured, or all kinds. Sindre had never expected to get a job in a business like this, but it had a steady income and the customers were always happy, so he didn’t complain much, he even got a higher tolerance to weird kinks while in there.

Sindre had just bent down to grab some bottles when he felt a smack on his ass. He jumped into an upright position with a yelp and covered his behind. He heard the blond man’s laugh behind him, and he felt something attached to his back pocket. He retrieved his hand to see a post-it note with a number on it.

“Money’s on the counter, I’m bringing this home,” the man flashed a smile and held up the vibrator.

“Though, I could need help with trying it out,” he winked at Sindre and mouthed ‘call me’ as he walked out. Sindre looked over to the counter and he could very clearly see the money on it. He glanced down on the note again. His number was written clearly, as well as an instruction to bring lube. It was signed with Søren.

“Søren… Strict, severe or serious…” Sindre picked up his phone and dialled the number. It didn’t take long before the man picked up.

“Hello..?”

“I really do hope your name has some correlation to the size of your dick,” Sindre said bluntly. He could hear the other man’s laugh on the other end.

“Why don’t you come and find out?”

“Why do you think I called?” The man hung up and Sindre thought it was a joke for a moment, until the phone beeped in his hand and he saw a text message with the man’s address and a suitable time. Right after Sindre’s shift was over. He finished off all of his duties as fast as he could, and his boss had to ask him why he was in such a rush.

“I’m about to get laid,” was all he said as he walked out the door and made his way downtown.

******************

He was big. A lot bigger than Sindre had thought he would be. And a lot better in bed than he wanted to admit. He had a feeling that his throat would be sore the next day because of all the moans and whining noises he’d made over the past hour.

“Thought you’d bring something for your kinks,” Søren growled in his ear. Sindre slapped his ass and threw his head back after a deep thrust.

“Customer service,” he stuttered out, and he could almost hear how Søren smiled down at him.

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” Søren yanked Sindre up so he was riding him on a high pace.

‘No, no he is not,’ Sindre thought. ‘I am lucky.’ He had to hold onto the headboard as hard as he could to not fall over. His legs were weak and he started to feel a knot building up inside of him. It had been long since he’d had sex, and he hadn’t had sex this good in what felt like a year. He’d mostly only had quickies in bathroom stalls during bar-gigs of some new metal band. But this man knew how to move, how to touch, how to sound. Almost knew how to sound, the thick accent still bothered him a bit. But all the thoughts of past lays and horrible accents vanished when he felt a hand around him, which made the knot inside him tighten and his breathing speed up.

“I want you to scream,” another low growl in his ear and Søren bit down on his shoulder. Sindre would be covered in hickeys and unable to sit down for a while, but he didn’t care. It felt too good; it had been way too long and now was the time it let it all go.

He came with a scream, just as he’d been told, and if Søren hadn’t held onto him he would have fallen off the bed. His whole body shook and his legs twitched and he lost all strength in them, completely caught up in the moment. Sindre slumped over Søren’s shoulder and held onto him as he was rocked up and down until the other man released.

“Are you staying the night?” Søren laid him down on the bed and looked at him with a look that Sindre quite couldn’t decipher; was it concern or annoyance.

“If I may, then yes,” he tried to stand up but fell back down on the bed again; his legs were to stiff and tired to walk on. Søren turned off the lights in the room and pulled up the covers around them as he lied down beside him. Sindre cast a glance at the alarm clock. It said 22.03 in bright green. But he didn’t really mind how long he’d been there; he wanted to know how long he was allowed to stay. He mentally beat himself for thinking that, and blamed it on the afterglow. He couldn’t be falling for a guy he just met, in a sexshop, who had been waving around a pink, glittery vibrator in his face.   
Then he remembered something that could be a good enough reason to come back.

They never tried the vibrator.


	2. Chapter 2

Søren cursed himself. He remembers the night he spent with the shop assistant very clear. Even the smallest of details, like the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat and the way his hair smelled, the way he remembered so clearly made it hard for him to believe that they had actually just met once before, on that same day.

He had still been asleep when the man had left without a trace; the only sign of him ever having been there were the ruffled sheets and a bottle of lube on the floor. At first Søren hadn’t noticed the bottle, or the fact that half of its content had been spilled out, until he’d sat up in bed and stepped right into the small puddle that had formed.

After cleaning up the floor and showering, Søren desperately looked over every flat surface in his apartment, searching for a note that he hoped the man had left him. But to no avail, the man was gone and Søren cursed himself and smacked a hand in his face. He had no idea who the man was. What his name was, he did have his phone number but thought it would be a very bad idea to call him and then ask for his name. So for the time being he saved the number as “Customer Service” and tried to think of what to do.

Søren had done this plenty of times before, but he felt the need to see this particular man again, he just needed to come up with an excuse. He could show up at his workplace again, but at the same time he didn’t want the blond man to get in trouble. Though he supposed he could pass by a bit later and see if he was about to leave, their arranged time seemed to fit perfectly the day before. Søren deemed the idea good enough, and made a mental note to bring the vibrator he bought the day before. He still needed to see how it works.

********************

21.00 was closing time, Sindre barely needed to glance at the clock on the wall behind the counter to know what time it was. His boss had already left, not needing to tell Sindre what to do before closing. Sindre knew it all already. Stack everything up for the next day, check the cashier machine, turn off the lights and lock the doors. He had just locked the door to the storage room when he heard the door open and someone entering. He figured it was just his boss that had forgotten something, it had happened before, so he resumed doing his chores until he felt arms wrap around his waist.

“You can’t just leave like that,” he felt hot breath on the back of his neck and he mentally slapped himself for remembering who the thick accent belonged to so easily.

“Why do you care?” he could have answered with the usual ‘I can do whatever I want’, but he wanted to know why exactly Søren had gone to the shop again, and to see him.

“I never got the full… customer service last night,” Søren bent down and kissed Sindre’s neck, on the same spot that he’d noticed was the most sensitive. It wasn’t hard to find it again, as a deep purple bruise from the night before covered it. Søren retrieved an arm from around him and dug into the big pockets of his trench coat. Sindre glanced sideways just in time to see Søren pull out the pink vibrator.

“You never helped me try it,” Søren spun him around and held him close to his chest. Sindre let out a low hum at the warmth radiating from the taller man’s body, and the smell of leather that came from the trench coat mixed well with that of the man himself. He leaned into the man’s embrace and sighed, taking in as much of the moment as he could.

“Your place or mine?” Søren kissed the top of his head; even though it wasn’t something he’d normally do to someone he’d had sex with, especially not someone who he didn’t know the name of.

“Here,” Sindre looked up at him and slowly pushed him backwards to the counter.

“Whoa, in here? What if someone finds us?” Søren wasn’t sure if the idea was so good, the thought of it may have been exciting, but the possibility of getting into trouble was too big.

“It’s after closing time, anyway,” Sindre turned off a few more lights and locked some of the doors, including the main entrance. He proceeded to strip off his shirt while moving back to Søren, who sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but he was in no position to complain as he was stripped of his clothes and his mind was filled with nothing but the man in front of him, closing the distance between them and holding him in his arms, kissing him deeply. Cold fingers running through his hair and slim but strong legs around his waist, he whished that he’d been stronger so he could have held the other in his arms like that for the rest of their lives. He was staring to lose his balance, becoming weaker for every moment he spent without breathing, too caught up in kissing the other man. He ended the kiss and sat him down on the counter.

“It’s cold,” Sindre complained, but was silenced quickly again by a rough and lust filled kiss from Søren.

“It’ll get warmer,” Søren looked around as if he’d lost something, but came up blank. The vibrator was right next to his lover’s body, but he still felt something was missing.

“Did you forget lube?” Sindre leaned up on his elbows, and stared at Søren until the other admitted to it. Sindre reached behind the counter and pulled out a bottle.

“The cap was open, can’t sell it,” he said as he spilled out some on his fingers and started to prepare himself. He put his legs over Søren’s shoulders and instructed for the man to prepare the vibrator.

“You twist the bottom to turn it on,” Sindre’s head was falling over the edge of the counter, and he tried his best to keep from moaning. After many lonely night’s he’d become good at satisfying himself, but never thought of buying a vibrator. Especially not after hearing some of the horror-stories the customers had chatted about a bit too loud. He could hear a snapping nose and buzzing from above him. Sindre let out a shaky breath as he felt something cold pressing against his fingers.

“Turn it off first,” he dug his heel into Søren’s shoulder and the man above him turned it off. Søren removed Sindre’s fingers and slowly inserted the pink toy inside of him. Sindre felt a bit disappointed at first, he had had bigger before, and the cold plastic felt odd and it felt like it was sliding out by itself.

“On. Now,” he demanded, taking hold of Søren’s wrist and pushing the toy further inside, just as Søren turned it on. The vibrations had him moaning and gasping for breath, his hold on Søren’s wrist became tighter and Søren got to feel just how strong the man actually was, despite his slim body not showing many signs of it. The man was shaking ever so slightly and gasping beneath him, his moans growing louder the more Søren pushed the toy in and out. He was a bit disappointed to find it only had one speed-level, but thought to himself that it would do for now, the man seemed to enjoy it. Søren could feel that he had gotten hard just by the sight and sounds, and the jeans he wore felt too tight. He used his free hand to unbutton them and pull them down, freeing himself from the restricting fabric and he felt better immediately.

“Can I?” he bent over the man and pressed their lips together, tongues pulling moans from the other as they met. Sindre moaned loud and long when the vibrator was pulled out and something else took its place. He tugged at Søren’s hair and forced him as close as he could without having to move his legs from their position over the taller man’s shoulders. It felt so similar to the night before, Søren was just as good as he remembered, and surprisingly gentle with him, though still just as pleasurable. Sindre let himself be overtaken by the smell, sounds and rocking movements of the man above as he came closer to his orgasm. He let his legs fall down from Søren’s shoulders and hooked them around his waist, pulling him closer than he already was. One of his hands left the mess of golden locks on Søren’s head to claw at his back, making the other man hiss and bite down on his lower lip, already red and swollen from kissing. Søren reached down a hand to start pumping Sindre’s neglected erection, and the moans in his ears only got progressively louder the faster he moved his hand.

They didn’t last much longer than that, sharp and angled thrusts hitting just right and almost having Sindre screaming as he reached his orgasm and release. Søren growled in his ear and released deep inside of him, though Sindre didn’t mind at all. Søren slumped forward and laid his head on Sindre’s chest. Both men were out of breath, limbs sore and minds still dizzy from their orgasms.

******************************

Sindre didn’t allow them to stay like that for long, and insisted that they cleaned up and went home, otherwise the chance of them getting into trouble was a lot higher. Søren helped him clean up, wiping away bodily fluids and lube the best he could from the counter, Sindre packing up everything and checking so that nothing was out of place. Once they’d left the store and started waling in the direction of Søren’s home, Sindre pulled out his phone and called his boss.

“Hello, this is Sindre,” he said in a hushed voice, and Søren made a mental note to not forget his name now that he’d heard it.

“I don’t think I can come in tomorrow… yeah… That’ll be good, good night,” he hung up and put the phone back in his pocket, and looked up at Søren.

“You’d forgotten my name, hadn’t you?”

“You never told me what it was,” Søren looked away, still a bit ashamed, and was quick to add that now he’d remember.

“Crashing at my place again?” He asked as they stood outside the building where his apartment was.

“If you don’t mind,” Sindre felt unsure if it was acceptable, they had only known each other for two days, and then mostly just the other’s body. Was he crazy for believing that this was something that could grow or even last. But he felt reassured and smiled at the small bow and the extended arm that was offered him.

“Of course not,” Søren said and held up the door. Maybe Sindre was mistaken, maybe it could last, or perhaps even grow into something more.


	3. Chapter 3

Sindre didn’t know what had gotten to him; one moment he couldn’t care at all for relationships, emotional or physical, and the next he craved for one more than anything. He blamed Søren; the man had turned out to be like a drug to him over the last one and a half month of them knowing each other.

He didn’t know what made him go back to the man, whom he’d learned could be an annoyance out of the ordinary, but he had decided to tell himself that it was because he was a magnificent lay.

So he kept coming back for more, and Søren never complained, he seemed to enjoy it as well, no matter how many snide remarks Sindre would make. Either it was something Søren had said, how he dressed, how his small apartment looked, even his way of making coffee. Sindre would always find something to comment on.

Sindre thought it was only right of him to do so, as a kind of payback for the lousy dirty-talk and sexts during work hours he’d have to put up with. Søren’s kinks were entirely different things, and Sindre didn’t mind them at all.

The taller man had some fixation with legs, and Sindre had never quite understood how or why his own, long legs could be so fascinating.   
But when Søren trailed his hands up them, nails almost scratching at his calves and digging into his thighs, he felt like he turned to mush in his hands.

Kisses where Søren’s nails had left small marks, trailing up to his hips and lower stomach, Sindre was certain that if he moved he’d wake up only to find it was all a dream. It felt too good to be true.

Søren had also proved that he could do more than just talk with his mouth. The man’s kisses were something that Sindre couldn’t get enough of.   
The nibbling on his bottom lip, the hard but warm press of the other’s lips on his own, the slight taste of icing sugar and jam lingering on his tongue long after they’d parted to take a breath that they’d soon pull out from each other’s lungs from another long kiss.

Søren drove him wild, and he knew it, teasing him with a cheeky smile as he kissed Sindre’s stomach, hips, thighs and didn’t stop until he had Sindre’s hardened dick in his mouth. Wet, damp, and so much more fulfilling than Sindre could ever have thought that a blowjob could be.

He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t hold in the moans and whimpers when Søren touched him, sucked him, held him in place and made him feel so good. He couldn’t get a steady grip on what was reality and what was imagination.  
He thread his hands in Søren’s hair to make sure it was real, the confirmation that it wasn’t all a dream enough to make him release with a scream of the other man’s name.

The teasing wouldn’t stop there, normally, but there had been some occasions where Søren had just smiled at Sindre and decided to hold him close, wrap him up in his arms and the bed sheets, and whisper that he was too tried, only for the both of them to fall asleep to the sound of their breathing.

Sindre could easily tell that those days were the best, and one of the main reasons that he came back to Søren again and again; the man might actually be able to love him, and he was willing to take the chance to see if it could happen.


	4. Chapter 4

“I would never have thought that your car would be such a…” Sindre trailed off, searching to find the appropriate words. Mess? Wreck? Rusty piece of scrap metal?

“Messed up wreck?” was what he ended up saying. Sindre looked down at the ground, hoping he hadn’t messed up.

At first he had thought that Søren would be like many other people from bigger cities; so used to public transport, cycling and walking that they didn’t even have a drivers licence. He’d seen Søren ride around town on a rickety old bike before, but when he learned that the man owned a car his thoughts had changed. He thought that Søren, with his cheerful and outgoing disposition, would drive around in a flashy car and be very proud of it.

“Yeah, I know she’s not the best, but she moves forward and that’s good enough for me!” Søren admitted with a laugh, patting the roof of the car with a gloved hand. The comment made Sindre feel a bit better, he would jokingly pick on Søren but he’d never want to actually insult the man.

“A little oil in this old lady and she’ll be just fine!” Søren’s enthusiasm made Sindre smile before he went and put his and Søren’s bag in the trunk. Søren was going back to his hometown for some event, he hadn’t said much about it, and since he’d thought the car ride would be lonely, he’d asked Sindre to join him.

“The more the merrier,” he’d said, when Sindre had asked if it was okay for him to follow, and he didn’t have the heart to argue. Besides, he didn’t mind getting off from work every once in a while.

Though sometimes Sindre wondered why Søren would try to get him to come along to various things. Even if it was just a round at the bar or going to a McDonalds in the middle of the night, Søren didn’t seem to be willing to go there alone. Sindre wondered if the man was just happy to spend time with him, because maybe Søren actually liked him as a person, or maybe Søren was afraid of being all alone. Sindre hoped for the first assumption to be true, despite his feeling of the second being more plausible.

******

“How long did you say the trip was gonna take?” Sindre glanced over to Søren who had a slightly panicked look in his eyes. Søren’s lips were nothing but a thin line on his face, and Sindre could almost hear how he was cursing inside his head.

“Five hours,” Søren sighed, head against the steering wheel and shoulders slumped in defeat. Sindre knew he couldn’t blame him for the bad weather, resulting in a traffic accident and a closed main road, but maybe if he’d been more thoughtful he’d have made a plan B, so that they wouldn’t be stuck the empty parking lot of a closed gas station.

“This is like the beginning of an old, American horror movie…” Sindre turned to look out the window. He was thankful that it was still summer, and the sun was still visible in the sky. He knew it would get dark in the night, but at least the evenings weren’t pitch black as they were in the winter.

“Don’t remind me… And it will get cold and dark and we’re almost out of gas and there’s nothing to do but wait until the road opens again…” Søren didn’t look up as he whined, but instead took off the seatbelt and pushed the seat as far back as he could.

“We could… do each other?” when Søren sat up to look at him with a blank expression, Sindre could feel his cheeks turn red and he stuttered out that it was a bad joke, hoping that Søren would buy it.

“That’s… not a bad idea, actually.” Søren’s grin came back, as he turned on the radio and unbuckled Sindre, forcing the seat down as much possible, until Sindre was lying down.

“But we don’t have any-“ Søren motioned for him to open the glove box, and when Sindre looked inside he saw, fitted snugly between manuals and restaurant menus, a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms.

“You are always prepared, aren’t you?”

“You never know what might happen!”

“Pervert,” Sindre sighed and leaned back in the seat, as Søren took out the bottle and condoms, closing the glove box and climbing over to Sindre’s seat.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we did it in the back?” Sindre asked, hands reaching up to Søren’s shoulders.

“Naah, we’re a bit tall for that, don’t you think?” Sindre didn’t argue as he leaned up to kiss Søren, pulling him down so their chests were almost touching. He knew that car sex wasn’t the easiest thing to pull off, but he hoped that this time around he wouldn’t get a cop knocking at the window, asking him what the hell was going on.

Sindre was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t notice the hand tugging at his t-shirt until it was almost pulled off. Quickly stripping himself of his shirt and unbuttoning Søren’s, he caught the taller man’s lips with his own, determined to not break away before the lack of air would make his head spin.

The downside of Søren’s car was it’s size, and Sindre found it hard to avoid kicking at the front window when Søren grinded his hips down against Sindre’s. Sindre could feel how his pants became too tight and Søren’s growing erection through their jeans. Groaning into their kiss, Søren broke away for a moment to pull down his pants, Sindre taking his chance to do the same and kiss and suck on the other’s neck.

Søren bit his lips and tried to keep his groans in, pulling Sindre’s jeans and boxers further down and forcing them off, wondering when Sindre had kicked off his shoes. Letting his hands slide up long legs, Søren reached out to grab the bottle up lube. He was thankful that Sindre preferred to prepare himself, and he trailed kisses along his legs as he watched Sindre grimace and let out heavy sighs as he readied himself for what was to come.

Putting on a condom, shifting Sindre’s legs so they were hooked around his waist, Søren waited for Sindre to tell him to push inside. Sindre sighed and moved his hands to clutch at the fabric of Søren’s shirt, nodding at him that he was ready.

Søren slowly pushed inside, his hands on the back of the seat to keep him steady. Sindre’s hands tugged harder at his shirt and gripped at his shoulders. Once inside, Søren waited for Sindre to adjust, before starting to move slowly.

Breathless gasps and groans soon mixed in with the songs on the radio, and the car began to rock with their steady, hard rhythm. Sindre’s fumbling hands were all over Søren’s back and lower stomach, fingers tracing every contour of muscles they could find. Their lips soon locked together, silencing their groans and muffling gasps.

They were thankful that they didn’t last very long. The air inside the car was getting too warm and their bodies started to ache from their cramped position, but their release was still sweet and welcomed.

Søren wiped sweat from his brow as he opened the passenger door to climb outside and stretch his back, hearing the satisfying popping of joints in his back. Sindre shifted into a sitting position, his lower back feeling sore but the fresh, cool air coming in through the open car door was worth the slight discomfort.  
Neither of them said anything, but steadied their breathing and looked at the sun slowly setting in the sky; Sindre from the passenger seat, Søren leaning against the car, pants pulled up but still unbuttoned.

They snapped back to reality when they heard a news anchor on the radio report that the road’s been cleared. Søren sighed and buttoned his jeans, getting back to the drivers’ seat and starting to clean up their mess, and soon they were out on the road again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real smut-content in this chapter.

This was not what Sindre had imagined. Søren had just told him that they were going to his hometown for a weekend, but he never said a word about meeting his family. But now they were here, in Søren’s parents’ garden, invited to dinner and trying to act normal.

Trying to act like Sindre didn’t work in a sex-shop, or that sex was how their strange and undefined relationship had started. Acting like they hadn’t defiled Søren’s car on their drive to the city, or spent most of the previous night awake, doing similar activities on the cheap hotel bed.

“Where do you work?” Søren’s mother had asked by the dinner table, eyeing Sindre down as she spoke.

“In a small shop, I do my fair share of work there,” keeping his calm, Sindre tried not to grimace when he felt Søren’s eyes on him.

“They have the best customer service in town!” Søren laughed and patted Sindre’s shoulder. His parents had laughed too, but they didn’t know of the not-so-innocent meaning behind their son’s comment.

Sindre was amazed at how much Søren behaved like his mother. She would try to find as many opportunities to make the others laugh, and she wore a smile that Sindre had seen on Søren many times before.

Though Sindre also learned, as the evening progressed, that Søren had inherited more than a few things from his father too. The slight clumsiness when walking through doors (always hitting something and often stumbling over the threshold), the loud and strong voice, and the ability to drink.

Sitting by the table on their patio in the late evening, sipping on a beer each, Søren’s father asked the question Sindre knew would eventually be asked.

“So, Søren…” his father had leaned back in his chair and almost nonchalantly glanced over to Sindre, and with a fleeting hand movement, pointing from Søren to Sindre and back, asked the question that Sindre dreaded.

“Are you two together?”

Sindre could feel his heart drop to his stomach when Søren had spat out his drink and loudly declared that they were not.

“We are just friends, that’s all!” Søren tried to laugh it off, and Sindre felt like the sound could cut him open.

Never before had Sindre been so grateful for being a good actor, or was he simply a good liar? In that moment he couldn’t tell.

They didn’t stay much longer after that. As they were leaving, Søren’s mother gave Sindre a hug and told him that he was always welcome to visit them again, no matter how Søren defined their relationship. Sindre realized that the woman probably knew more than Søren thought she did, but all he could do was give her a small smile and a “thank you” before getting into the car with Søren.

The drive back to the hotel was too silent and tense for Sindre to enjoy the big city scenery flashing outside the car window, and the elevator ride was even worse.

Sindre knew he shouldn’t let his stubbornness get the best of him, but he was determined to not say a word more to Søren that night and to simply go to sleep as soon as he stepped inside the hotel room, not even saying as much as “goodnight”, all because of the surprise meeting that ended with his heart being broken.

“Why are you acting so pissed all of a sudden?” Søren had said as soon as the door had closed. His voice was annoyed and instead of a smile he wore a frown. Sindre tried to pay him no mind, but when Søren pushed on and wouldn’t let it slide, he snapped.

“”Just Friends” you said? So we are “just friends”?” Sindre sneered, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible, which was hard to do when he was heartbroken. He had hoped that maybe they could be something more. That maybe Søren liked him and that’s why he had asked him to come with him. But maybe he was wrong.

“What should I have told them? That you’re my fuck-friend? I can hardly call you my boyfriend, we’re not at all like that!”

“Then what are we like?”

“You are just a friend that I call when I’m horny or lonely, that’s all!” Søren was angry, it wasn’t hard to tell with his eyes wide and glaring, his lips a tin line and his body visibly shaking. But angry or not, Sindre couldn’t focus on anything other than the words that he’d just said, and the sinking feeling inside of him slowly making him numb.

“The best damn customer service in town,” he sighed, and promptly turned away from Søren.

Sindre could feel Søren’s eyes on him as he stripped of his clothes and went to bed, but he refused to look back at him. He had a feeling that he’d break if he did.

Søren slept on the couch that night, and when he woke up he found that he was all alone, and the only trace of Sindre ever having been there was the unmade bed and a small note on the coffee table with three words scribbled onto it.

“I’m going home.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter either.

Sindre wondered for how long he could stay at home from work, his excuse being a “broken heart”. Søren’s words still echoed in his ears, how he wasn’t important to him at all.

“Just a friend…” Sindre had intended the words to be muttered, but they came out sounding more like a whimper. Sindre cursed himself inside his head, pulling the duvet over his head and wishing that he could just disappear.

“Nothing more than a friend…” he looked over to his phone on the bedside table. He’d noted how the screen would occasionally light up. He’d turned off sound and vibration on it after two days of Søren trying to contact him. He’d only answered one call, from his boss, who’d asked where he was and for how long he’d be gone.

Sindre hadn’t promised anything, he said he’d gotten really ill and couldn’t tell when he’d be able to get out of bed again. He could never have guessed that a broken heart hurt so much.

Getting out of bed was a chore. Sindre didn’t dare to look in mirrors because he knew he’d look like a mess. He’d noted that some hair was falling out, but he supposed it was a normal thing. It had happened before, but because of stress. And it wasn’t like it mattered anyway, it would grow back out again.

He wondered if he’d lost weight, he felt a lot lighter, and he hadn’t been eating like usual since he came home from his and Søren’s trip. He hadn’t done anything like usual, sadness had won him over.

Sindre didn’t know why it was so crippling, the feeling of not being loved back. Had he been too hopeful? Had he been foolish to think that sleeping with Søren would eventually make the other man love him back?   
Had all their midnight meals at the grill been for nothing? Had Søren told him the truth in that cheap hotel room? Was Sindre just a friend that Søren hooked up with when he was lonely and horny?

It hurt too much to think about, Sindre decided, as he pushed himself off the edge of the bed, still wrapped up in blankets, and he lazily made his way out to the hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t even know why he was out of bed.

He sunk down to the floor with a small thump, and he curled into a ball inside the blanket as he wept. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever cried that much in his life, not even when his parents had thrown him out.

Perhaps it was because he’d been lonely for so long, and thought that maybe this time he’d be loved again, and having his hope crushed the way it was had broken him.

Sindre tried his best to calm his breathing and making the tears stop falling from his eyes, but it proved to be harder than he thought. He wasn’t sure for how long he’d sat curled up on the floor when he heard the doorbell ring, followed four curt knocks against the dark wood.

On shaking legs, not as strong as they usually were, Sindre stood up and silently walked over to the door, peering out through the peephole he saw the last person he wanted to see him in the state he was in.

Søren had come or him, the only thing separating the two was the dark wooden door. Sindre hoped that his heartbeats couldn’t be heard through the wood, or that Søren knew he stood right there on the other side. He hoped that Søren would leave, thinking Sindre wasn’t at home.

“Where else would he think I’d be though?” Sindre thought to himself, feeling panic washing over him. The more Sindre looked at Søren through the little hole, the worse he felt. Søren looked like a mess, his hair more unruly and tousled than usual, uneven stubble and dark circles under his eyes.

Sindre sucked in a deep breath when he realized that he probably didn’t look any better himself. He swallowed a big lump in his throat as he turned to look in a mirror for the first time in days.

The sight made him stumble backwards and lose his breath. The tiredness and heartbreak was so evident. His face was pale, eyes dull and his whole appearance screamed of desperation. He fell to the floor with a loud noise, and the knocking on the door resumed.

“Sindre, are you okay? Are you in there? Please answer!” Søren’s voice wasn’t as loud or cheerful as it used to be, every syllable laced with worry. Sindre wanted to scream at him to go away, but his voice was failing him. His legs were failing him. It seemed like in that moment, everything he knew was failing him.

“Sindre, please, open the door, I need to talk to you,” Søren kept knocking on the door, his voice pleading. Sindre knew that a pair of blue puppy eyes would meet his when he opened the door and saw the taller man, but apparently Søren hadn’t expected Sindre to look like he’d been through hell.

“I… Sindre, oh my, I’m so sorry I-“ Sindre felt a rage bubble up inside of him, and without further thinking he slammed the door in Søren’s face. His breathing had become ragged within seconds, and he shook his head as he slid down the door and leaned against it, hearing Søren’s whining from the other side.

“Oow, what the hell, man? You could have broken my nose by doing that!” Søren spoke through the mail slot. Sindre felt the rage bubble up inside him again, and he didn’t know how long he could keep it inside.

“Oh, really? Well, you fucking broke my heart! I’ve been at home for two weeks, crying my eyes out and barely been able to get out of bed! That’s a lot worse than your fucking nose being broken again, jackass!” Sindre breathed heavily, amazed that his voice didn’t break because of the volume.

Søren was silent on the other side, and after Sindre had steadied his breathing he reached up to open up the door just a little. He peered out and saw Søren sitting on the stairs, head in his hands and looking tired and miserable. Sindre fought back the urge to stand up and sit down beside him, but he didn’t have the power to look away and close the door.

“Hey,” Sindre’s voice had once more become weak, barely above a whisper. Hadn’t it been for the echoing he was sure Søren wouldn’t have heard him. At the sound of his voice, Søren looked up and right at him, looking like he was holding himself from standing up and walking over to Sindre, and into his apartment.

“You can come in…” Sindre slowly pushed the door open a bit more, moving out of the way and leaning against a wall, waiting for Søren. Søren didn’t say anything, but he felt like the actions of taking a few steps and closing Sindre’s door behind him were heavy and foreign, even though he knew he’d done it before.

Sindre watched as Søren sat down next to him, leaning his head against the door. The man looked even more like a wreck up close, and he could only imagine how bad he himself looked.

“You hurt me,” he sighed, not shifting his gaze from Søren as he spoke.

“You really hurt me,” Søren was staring up at the ceiling, and Sindre noted how he wasn’t crying, but looked like tears could start spilling from his eyes at any moment.

“I know I did…” Sindre waited patiently for an apology, and he could see the man crumble before him.

“I’m sorry… I just didn’t know what to say? I don’t know what my parent’s would say? And I’m right, I couldn’t really tell them how we met, that’d be…” tears spilled from Søren’s eyes as he spoke, Sindre could hear the shame and regret in his voice.

“It’d be too weird…” Sindre sighed, only looking at the other man, not moving at all. He was tired, much too tired to cry or get mad. And he knew that yelling wouldn’t solve anything. It had only made things worse that night, it wouldn’t make anything better here and now either.

“It would… and I didn’t know, because what are we?” the question made Sindre tense up. He remembered Søren’s words too well. That he was just a friend, a friend that Søren only called when lonely or horny, and nothing more.

“I like you…” Sindre spoke, his voice flat and not louder than a whisper. He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall.

“I do like you, but you really hurt me…” the sound of Søren slowly hitting his head back against the door filled the otherwise quiet apartment.

“I know… and I’m sorry,” Sindre couldn’t open his eyes and look at the man sitting there with him. It was too painful and too awkward. They had never been close before, but they’d never been so distant as they were now. Sindre wished that he’d never had gone on that trip with Søren, he almost wished that he’d never even met the man, or at least not have slept with him.

“What do we do?” Sindre sighed, slowly scooting closer to Søren. He knew he could play it off as bad hearing; he needed to be closer to hear the other properly.

But in reality, he missed the feeling of the other man close to him, and Sindre remembered how he would act with his brother after they’d fought. Let the conversation die down and lean his head on the other’s shoulder. Not quite hugging, but staying close.

“I don’t know…” Søren stopped hitting his head, and the apartment fell silent. The only sound was their breathing, and Sindre could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cursed himself for still hoping that Søren liked him back. He thought he should have given up after that night, but his heart wouldn’t let go.

“Do you…” Sindre was uncertain if he dared to ask Søren about that day. He desperately wanted to know if what Søren had said was his honest feelings, or if it had just been drunken talk. The little voice in Sindre’s head echoed, saying that ‘a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts’.

“Do I what?” Sindre curled up tighter in his blanket, not looking at Søren. His voice was hoarse, a lump in his throat made it hard to speak up.

“Did you really mean what you said?” Sindre held his breath as he waited for Søren’s reply. All he heard was their breathing, and Sindre’s heart dropped from his chest to his stomach. He felt nauseous. He wished he hadn’t brought it up, that’s he could have just let it go during his two weeks of weeping.

No words were said for what felt like an eternity. Sindre took a deep breath and bit his lips, slowly opening his eyes to look at Søren. He saw two blue eyes looking at him, dried tears on freckled cheeks, and lips pursed, only a thin line on Søren’s face. He looked hurt.

Sindre didn’t get the chance to say anything before he was pulled into Søren’s arms. Søren held him tight and buried his face in Sindre’s shoulder. Sindre hesitantly freed his arms from the safety of his blanket and wrapped them around the other man, sobs rocking his body as he stuttered out how sorry he is.

Søren rambled on about how sorry he was and what a mistake he had made for more than an hour, crying into Sindre’s shoulder as the other stroked his hair and tried to calm down his breathing.

“What do I do? How do I get you back?” Søren’s voice was rough, sometimes wobbling, and he held onto Sindre like a lost child who’d just been found by his mother. Sindre drew a shaking breath and hugged the man closer to him, sighing in his ear that they’d be fine in time.

“Just… be honest with me, and then we can start over,” Sindre pushed Søren away from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. He was no longer crying, neither of them was, and the little spark had reappeared in his sky blue eyes.

“I promise,” his voice wasn’t loud, his smile wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but Sindre could tell that it was the same Søren that he’d fallen for that was in front of him. It wasn’t the drunken guy who’d yelled at him, it was the goof who talked about how some beers taste better than others and how the big city life wasn’t as good as it seemed to be.

“I believe you,” smiling lips met in a small, quick kiss. It was the real Søren in front of him, and Sindre couldn’t resist. He’d missed it too much, and he hoped that this time it would work out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut is back in this one.

“I am sorry. I love you. I am so sorry,” Søren mumbled against Sindre’s lips as they lied in his bed. Sindre was wrapped up in blankets and the bigger man’s arms, and he’d been like that since the night before. 

Sindre couldn’t remember exactly the last time he’d felt as safe and loved as he did when he lied in Søren’s arms. It had been an emotional night for them, setting things straight from reconciling and Sindre telling Søren the real story on how he ended up in a small suburb, living in a very empty apartment and working in a shop that sold sex-toys. 

“I can’t believe your parents kicked you out. And for that? It’s…” Søren trailed off, kissing Sindre once more and wiping away tears from his cheeks. To him, it seemed absurd for two otherwise loving parents to disown their child for liking people of the same gender. But Søren didn’t doubt that it had happen, and he didn’t push Sindre to tell him more, since the look in his eyes and the weakness of his voice indicated how much of a sensitive subject it was for him. 

“It’s crazy, I know… But that’s just my life…” Sindre mumbled, hiding his face in Søren’s chest, smiling to himself when he could once again smell the man. The scent, deep and strong of motor oil, pepper and his cologne, was soothing and Sindre had missed it when they had been apart. 

Part of him said that he’d been too eager to forgive Søren, but the little loving voice in him shot back and said he should have forgiven him sooner. It was a conflicting feeling, but the sincerity and love that Søren showed him almost made Sindre cry of happiness, and the only voice he cared for was the one laced with a thick Danish accent. 

“I probably didn’t make that better,” Søren sheepishly laughed, kissing Sindre’s forehead and gently rubbing circles on his hips. Sindre murmured that Søren’s kind of crazy was his favourite, no matter if it crossed the border to annoying at times. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Sindre hugged Søren closer, wanting the other’s body pressed against his as close as possible, desperately wanting to be held, touched, loved by the man again. 

Sindre could feel the yearning take over him, as he kissed Søren deeply and freed himself from the restricting blankets he’d wrapped himself in. Søren didn’t know how to react, but let Sindre have his way and let his hands hold onto the smaller man’s hips. 

“I need you,” Sindre breathed against Søren’s lips, before biting down on his lower lip and working to unbutton their shirts. Søren closed his eyes and leaned back, glad to see the Sindre he knew reappear. 

Kissing each other had never felt as intimate and loving, and the way they moved, hands gently brushing against skin as they undressed each other, it felt so natural and like that is how they were meant to be together. Gentle and loving, every action taken with care for no one but the other. 

Søren happily leaned back on the bed, his hands holding onto Sindre’s hips as the smaller man gently lowered himself onto Søren’s hardened member. Søren smiled when he saw Sindre scrunch up his nose, the little sigh he made as he winced, carefully taking Søren in fully.

“I love you,” Søren sighed, his hands moving up Sindre’s sides to gently cup his cheeks, pulling him down to kiss his lips softly. 

“I love you so much,” he got in response, and he smiled wide when he heard the small moan from above him, when he felt Sindre start to move up and down on him. 

The small, careful rolling of his hips, their hands clasped together and their lips on each other’s, it was like none of the drama had ever happened. They were perfect, Søren was sure. Perfect for each other, no matter the differences. 

“I love you,” he moaned loudly as Sindre picked up his pace, moving Søren’s hands back to hold onto his hips, bringing him down with more force. 

“I love you so much,” Sindre’s mouth hung open as his breathing sped up, his groans and moans becoming increasingly louder. 

“You are so beautiful, I love you, I need you.”  
“Quiet, my love,” Sindre pulled Søren up by his shoulders, wrapping himself around the bigger man’s torso and kissing him with a burning desire that had been building inside him for so long. 

“Scream for me,” Søren begged, biting on Sindre’s lips and pulling him down onto his shaft harder and faster for each intake of breath. 

And Sindre screamed, releasing all over his and Søren’s stomachs before slumping against him, hiding his face in the crook of Søren’s neck. Søren didn’t last much longer, falling back onto the bed taking Sindre’s tired body with him.

They laid beside each other, breathless and looking into each other’s eyes, trying to make out if the stars they saw was from their lovemaking or if it was the happiness in the other’s gaze that they saw.

“I love you so much,” Søren breathed out, pulling Sindre close to him and breathing in the scent of his hair. 

“And I love you too,” Sindre murmured in reply, closing his eyes and kissing Søren’s lips.

‘Finally’, he thought. ‘Finally I am home.’


End file.
